Behind Barred Windows
by alien09
Summary: Rachel and Puck in a holding cell. Puckleberry. Dedicated to Marylouue. Now a two-shot, maybe a three.
1. Chapter 1

Rachel Berry did not get into situations like this. Huddling into herself and tugging at the hem of her nightgown, Rachel pondered the injustice of this particular state of affairs.

'I never thought I'd see the day when Rachel Berry would be the leading lady in my Law & Order fantasy.'

Shifting her glare to Puck, who was seated insolently next to her and smelled particularly strongly of alcohol, Rachel tried to force him to combust into a million, tiny pieces through sheer force of will (she had been constantly told about her unusually persistent tenacity. Why not untilize such a gift for the good of mankind?).

She failed.

'I am _not _a delinquent,' she saw fit to state rather firmly. The rather scantily clad woman on the opposite side of the wall snapped her gum loudly, and Rachel noted with disgust, was eyeing Puck as if he were a piece of meat.

'Insane, overbearing, maybe shrewish,' Puck commented lightly. 'You're right. Unless those prudish clothes you wear is like a supreme way to mindfuck everyone into some kind of twisted alternate universe, where people prance around and break out into song for no reason-'

'Obviously God has saw fit to punish me for some indiscretion that I am yet unware of,' Rachel interjected. Puck chuckled somewhat darkly before replying.

'Berry, you've been trying to get Finn to break up with his pregnant girlfriend so the two of you can make mad, passionate vocal sex. If anyone is going to hell, it's you.'

'You're inebriated, aren't you?'

'Yeah Crazy, I got picked up for disturbing the peace because of a loud impromptu musical number-'

'It is _not _my fault that my fathers have yet to soundproof the house! That lawsuit has not even been filed yet!' Rachel defended herself, crossing her arms when she remembered the straight-faced policeman saying he had to bring her in for singing too damn loud.

'Whatever. What? Do you take rejection as some kind of bone?'

Rachel shifted to the side, turning her head so he couldn't see the effect his words were having on her. Puck let out a ragged sigh and the small brush against her arm made her turn towards him in surprise. His green eyes were dark in the dim light of the holding cell, as if the shadows had decided to hide him in their embrace.

'Look I'm sorry, alright?'

'Don't apologize for saying words you feel are true,' Rachel replied stiffly. 'Honesty, no matter how harsh, is better than lying.'

'Listen up Berry, Noah Puckerman owning up to something is like a fucking biblical plague. They come around once a lifetime. So yeah. Appreciate it.'

'Your apology was in no way sincere.'

'Right now there are two of you talking to me in 5.1 stereo. And since its public knowledge how you can reach notes only dogs and Mariah Carey can hear, that isn't a compliment,' Puck remarked, shaking his head.

'_Why_ are you drunk?' Rachel inquired, curious. Those same dark eyes bored right into her.

'You really want to know?' His question was sardonic. Rachel frowned, edging closer to him when she saw the underdressed woman lean forward in her seat.

'Of course. I feel that being in Glee together has established some kind of bond between us.'

'Being in show choir doesn't make us best friends,' Puck said blandly. Rachel felt her cheeks heat up.

'No, of course not. Heaven forbid that Noah Puckerman do something that goes against popular opinion,' she shot back through clenched teeth, forcing the words out as if they were poison. Puck actually appeared stunned for a moment.

'You know, you're kinda hot.'

Rachel gaped.

'If you were drunk on wine coolers, and like didn't yap so much, I'd totally have knocked you up instead of Quinn.'

This time Rachel was sure her jaw had hit the floor.

'Wha-what?' She stuttered hoarsely. '_Finn _is the father Puck. Are you hallucinating?' Rachel instinctively reached forward and feathered her fingers across his face, studying the size of his pupils, checking to see if his skin was hot.

'No,' Puck was derisive, laying a warm, warm hand against one of hers and pressing it closer to his face. 'I mean, yeah, I wish the walls would stop hopping around like some kind of kinky orgy but other than that, I'm good.'

'Puck, we're in a prison cell being treated like Jack Bauer apprehended us. And you just told me Quinn was pregnant with your child,' Rachel tried not to listen to the hysteria bleeding into her tone.

'Man, Sylvester would totally eat Bauer for breakfast. I heard she got waterboarded and then made her interrogators cry,' Puck stated matter-of-factly. All Rachel was aware of was that he hadn't let go of her hand.

'Quinn Noah?' She prodded gently, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

'Yeah. I told her I'd take care of the baby, you know? Said I'd provide the money and shit. Because I'm not my father. _I'm not_,' Puck insisted, squeezing her hand. Rachel nodded her head.

_What happened with his father? _

'You're nothing like him,' Rachel assured him. Puck relaxed his grip slightly.

'I won't walk out on my family like some two-bit loser. I'd man up and take care of the both of them. I told Quinn that.' Puck trailed off.

'What did she say?' Rachel asked, though she could somehow piece together all the threads.

'She called me a Lima Loser. Said she didn't need someone like me when she could have Saint Finn,' Puck spat out. 'I thought I loved her you know?'

Rachel felt her heart squeeze ever so slightly.

_Another boy willing to worship at the altar of Quinn Fabray._

'Yeah she's totally working the whole Cheerio, blonde thing. I mean, who hasn't dreamed of that Playboy centerfold?' Puck looked at her as if he was expecting her to agree with him.

She didn't particularly want to.

'But it was like she wasn't so perfect, wasn't this nice little Christian girl that she wants everyone to think she is. Like, she drives really fast. Like she needs to stay above eighty so that the bomb won't blow up. Or that she digs putting peanut butter on _everything_. And I mean _everything_. And Quinn can be a complete bitch to get whatever the hell she wants. It's like she's got her junk down there all hidden away like some kind of really hot transvestite.' Puck paused. 'Woah, mental image.'

'She's your best friend's girlfriend Puck,' Rachel whispered and Puck jerked away from her touch.

'You think I don't know that? Huh? Huh?' His voice climbed, echoing around the cell. 'I've known Finn since we were in fucking preschool! How the hell do you think it makes me feel that I stuck my dick into his girlfriend's-'

Rachel winced at his crudity. 'I get the picture!'

'It's just…' Puck seemed to crumple within himself, the heavily made-up woman staring at him with wide eyes. 'I want to know my kid. I want her to know that I didn't just abandon her like she was something I didn't want.'

The raw hurt in his voice made Rachel soften. Tentatively, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up at her and then looked down at the concrete floor.

'I think it's admirable what you intend to do. Not many teenage boys would want to take on the responsibility such a venture would entail.'

'What? Are you even speaking English?' Puck asked her, looking (adorably. What. No. Puck did not _look _anything but constipated, Rachel reminded herself) bewildered.

'She said you got a set on ya, handsome,' the woman finally spoke up. 'Ain' many guys wan' ta give shit up for _anythin_', leas' of all some kid.'

Rachel blinked. 'Thank you…'

'Name's Candy.' A bubble popped.

'Thank you Candy.'

The woman's blonde cornrows thudded lightly against the wall in response, the bubble she had been blowing popping. Rachel blinked again and turned back to Puck, who was staring down at his hands as if they were some kind of lifeline.

'You're not a loser Puck,' Rachel spoke in a very determined way. 'You shouldn't let people tell you otherwise.'

Puck snorted.

'But I believe that you should tell Finn as soon as possible.'

'Quinn doesn't-'

'_You _are the father Puck. You have as much of a say as Quinn does. If you want to "man up",' Rachel hooked her fingers in the air, 'then perhaps it is time being more proactive towards the situation.'

Puck gave her a scrutinizing look. 'I thought you'd flip out and diva out on me.'

'I possess many talents. One of them is mediating an otherwise-'

'Do you read the dictionary?' Puck asked her seriously.

'Of course not.'

'Are you sure?'

'I think I would know if I read the dictionary Puck-'

'Noah,' Puck interrupted her. 'You can call me Noah. I like it.'

Rachel was beginning to like Puck when he was under the influence. 'Alright Noah.'

'You're really pretty,' Puck murmured, looping a piece of hair over her ear.

'So are you,' the words were out before she could stop them. Puck fluttered his lids as Rachel felt her cheeks flush.

'_Pretty_? I am a fucking _stud_. Like grade A, primo rugged fucking goodness. I'm like the fucking long-lost cousin of Dean Winchester who can fucking _sing_.'

'Church honey,' Candy agreed.

Puck was nodding his head vigourously. 'Have you seen my guns?' He was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Rachel swallowed, seeing the well-formed biceps flexing.

'Your arms are-' she meant to say lovely, 'delicious?'

'I melt in your mouth, not in your hand,' Puck leered at her lasciviously. Rachel wrinkled her nose but felt her stomach twist pleasantly in response.

_Stop it Rachel._

'Just like candy,' the older woman said with a wink.

'Holy shit Berry, why are you on the ceiling?' Puck demanded, pointing upwards.

'Rachel Berry? Your father is here to take you home,' the policeman's voice boomed throughout the holding cell.

'Daddy!' Rachel exclaimed, seeing him push his glasses up his nose.

'Sweetie, I thought we discussed your need to practice the entire score of _West Side Story_. I'm all for you believing that they'll need an understudy for Maria in the future but-'

'We have to take him with us too,' Rachel insisted, pointing back at Puck who was still gazing at the ceiling perplexed.

'Is that Abigail's son?' Daddy asked.

'Yes. What kind of Jews would we be if we just left him here? What would Adonai do?' Rachel made sure to push her lower lip out, the one that she knew Daddy was particularly powerless against.

'I'll take him as well,' Daddy told the policeman, who shrugged his shoulders. He was just going to let the kid sober up anyway. Spared him the hassle of dealing with a hungover teen.

Rachel never knew whether Puck remembered their conversation from that night. He treated her as he always did. But then a few days later, when rumours started to surface naming Puck as the father, and Finn had told his best friend he was dead to him, Rachel had waited quietly by the side.

Puck had fixed his green eyes on her, so dark like they had been the night in the cell, and nodded his head. He had reached down and pressed her hand to his cheek.

'Thanks,' was all he said.

Rachel nodded.

She didn't know what that meant, but she decided that Puck needed a friend. And Rachel Berry, much like the Good Samaritan, never turned down someone in need.

**a/n: the characters might be a little OOC, but I'm sure we'll all live. This is for Marylouue. Hope I did you justice.**

**Please tell me if it was…bad.**


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel Berry had always prided herself on being a law-abiding member of society. It was a badge she had worn with honour (that little incident with disturbing the peace aside) but now, _but now_…

'Oh quit acting like it's 2012 Berry,' Puck's voice drifted to her from the opposite end of the holding cell. The smug expression on his face made her want to slap him.

'This is _entirely _your fault,' Rachel saw fit to point out. Puck raised an eyebrow.

'Really?'

'Yes. While I respect your decision to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol to temporarily forget about your…situation,' Rachel worded it delicately, 'I sincerely do not appreciate being labeled as an accessory to your drunken caterwauling.'

Puck shrugged. 'You were clinging to me like I was a Tony. Guilty by association.'

Rachel looked aghast. 'I was simply trying to prevent you from incurring what would have been a _fatal _head wound should you have fallen over yourself in your alcohol-induced stupor.'

'I am not _nearly _drunk enough if I can still understand what you're saying.' Though the slur towards the end contradicted his assertion completely.

She pressed her lips together and reminded herself that this boy was a _friend _and the bonds of Gleehood clearly stated that grevious bodily harm was frowned upon. Instead she released a ragged sigh and cradled her chin in her hands. Rachel heard the rustle of fabric and then found Puck seated beside her.

'You can blame it all on me. So your dads won't like, take away your stereo or whatever.'

'I was going to in any case,' Rachel informed him somewhat primly. Puck didn't reply and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, noting the same weary expression on his face.

'You know Puck, I believe that we have come a long way these past few months towards establishing a common, beneficial-'

'I thought we discussed this. I won't use any words you need to Urban Dictionary if you quit speaking as if you belong in a museum.'

'Perhaps discussing what has been weighing you down would alleviate some of the stress,' Rachel suggested, ignoring what Puck had said in favour of maintaining some kind of continuity to their conversation.

'I don't do the whole "discuss your feelings" thing,' Puck said, hooking his fingers in the air. 'I'm not Finn,' this was said somewhat bitterly and Rachel drew her head up in realization.

'Oh. _I see_.'

'What?' Puck frowned.

'You're upset because despite the fact that you are the father of the baby has become common knowledge, Quinn has remained resolute in her decision to have Finn act as the father.'

Puck didn't answer her, sliding his gaze away.

Rachel felt her heart shift slightly and wondered how it had taken her this long to notice how this had been affecting him. When he had pressed his hand to her cheek, said the word "Thanks" like it was holy, Rachel knew that despite appearances Puck needed someone in his corner. Of course she was there for Finn and Quinn, but Rachel had also made it a point to make her allegiance to Puck well-known. This had caused strife with Finn, particularly early on when the wound of his girlfriend's infidelity and best friend's betrayal was still fresh.

'_Why _Rachel?' Finn had demanded. 'You barely know Puck. Heck, I'm pretty sure you don't even like him.'

Rachel had looked at the boy who had held her heart (yes, _had_, as in past tense) and grasped his hands gently in her own.

'You're my friend Finn, the both of you are,' Rachel had told him, looking over his shoulder at Quinn. 'But Glee isn't about taking sides. And despite what you might feel now, you'll soon come to realize that Puck has been just as affected by all this as the both of you.' If the last words had been a thinly veiled barb directed towards Quinn, Finn hadn't noticed.

'I don't even know why you care half the time,' Puck's words rang across the empty cell. Rachel bit her lip.

'I care because you're my friend Noah.' His eyes flickered towards her when she said his given name, the way it always did. The green in his eyes blended with the slight bits of brown and Rachel thought she was looking into a forest. Hesitantly she reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

He didn't move away.

'I thought that when the truth got out everything would be better. Quinn would finally stop being such a bitch and yeah, Finn would hate me, but there'd be no more lying and trying to cover shit up. You think having a little heart-to-heart, all that sharing and caring crap, will make everything better Berry? It won't.'

'Finn doesn't hate you,' Rachel said soothingly and she knew it was partly true. She'd seen Puck speaking with Finn a few days ago, barely a few words but neither boy had needed medical attention after. That, in her mind, was progress.

Puck snorted.

'I'm _seventeen_. This kind of shit doesn't happen to studs like me.'

'I hope you realize that a stud is an animal retained for breeding offspring.' A pause. 'Well, it appears you are using it in the right context.'

'Is that supposed to be a joke?'

'Bazinga?'

This elicited a genuine smirk from Puck, obvious remembering how he had forced Rachel to sit through an episode of The Big Bang Theory. Rachel had heard the five dollar words being utilized with great abandon and lapped it up.

'If you're afraid if Babygate has somehow affected your sexual appeal, your worries are unfounded.'

Puck seemed to ponder her statement before saying very seriously, 'Don't objectify me.'

Rachel rolled her eyes as Puck's face split into a grin.

'Berry, did you just acknowledge that I'm a hot piece of ass?'

'No,' Rachel said. 'I said no such thing.'

'Admit it,' Puck replied, pressing his face closer to hers. 'I make them good girls go bad.'

'If you're attempting to distract me from the _real _issue at hand, you're not succeeding,' Rachel managed to say with a level tone, resisting the urge to wipe her hands on her jeans. Puck righted himself, crossing on ankle over the other and putting his hands behind his head.

'It's going to work out Noah,' Rachel injected as much assurance as she could into her tone. Puck barely looked at her.

'That's a load of crap and you know it. Yeah okay, Quinn's finally admitted that she slept with the Lima Loser-'

The frustration Rachel could feel ebbing underneath the surface reached a simmer, a slow burn that made her clench her fists and spring to her feet. Placing herself directly in front of Puck's line of vision, she curtailed the impulse to stamp her Mary Janes on the concrete floor.

'I have had enough of this self-pity Noah Puckerman!' Rachel wished she knew his middle name – it would have had more of an impact then. 'Our friendship might still be in its infancy but if there's one thing I know for sure, it is that you possess _goals _and _dreams _that while in no way comparable to mine of course, is something that you should be proud of. Not only that, you have voluntarily shouldered the burden of aiding Quinn during her pregnancy while most teenage boys would have shirked away in absolute fear. That alone shows that you are not only a mature individual, but also extremely responsible…' Her tirade lost steam and Rachel felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Puck was staring at her, mouth slightly agape, as if her tangent had stunned him speechless.

With a haughty toss of her hair, Rachel folded herself neatly back on the low-lying wooden bench, mindful to keep a few extra inches between their bodies.

'Thanks,' was all Puck managed a minute later.

'You're welcome.'

'And thanks for…being there, you know. When everything was going down. And for committing a misdemeanor with me.'

Rachel felt her face soften into a smile and Puck averted his gaze, slightly embarrassed.

'You're welcome,' Rachel parroted his words.

'Yeah well, this is the most honest I've been with a girl. Ever.'

'I'll take it as a sign of growth then,' Rachel remarked dryly.

'There are _other _ways to thank me.'

'Must you cheapen the moment?'

Puck shrugged his broad shoulders, as if asking her if she expected anything less. Rachel knew why Puck kept up the façade so she let it slide.

'You really think everything's going to be alright?' Puck asked and this time there was a slight note of vulnerability weaved into his words, so faint that if you hadn't been paying attention you would have missed it. He stretched his palms out on the bench, leaning forward.

Rachel wanted to tell him that she didn't know, that she couldn't possibly know. But the susceptible look on his face, and the way he was willing to lay himself exposed no matter how fractionally…

Instead she reached over and covered her hand with his, gently tracing over the knuckles. She felt some of the stress on his overwrought muscles ease and was grateful. He was looking down at her hand, the ridge between his brow puckering slightly. Rachel watched in fascination as he tentatively brought his other hand over and sandwiched her small one between his brown, calloused fingers. A swarm of butterflies beat against the edges of her stomach like the pounding of drums.

_What are you doing?_

Rachel saw the way he was moving closer, saw the way his sun-dappled forest eyes narrowed in on her lips.

'You're under the influence,' Rachel whispered haltingly. Puck paused, inches away now that she could feel his breath fanning across her face.

_Do you want me to stop?_ His eyes asked.

_No._

It wasn't magical or anything at all like how she expected it to be. His lips fused over hers and their noses bumped against each other and Rachel couldn't help but giggle.

'I'm not an understudy Noah,' she said softly. 'I'm the star of this play or nothing at all.'

'You talk way too much Rachel,' Puck replied, tucking her under his arm.

They sat like that, quiet. Rachel absently played with the edge of his shirt. She didn't know what the kiss meant, or what they were.

But suddenly being a repeat offender didn't seem so bad.


End file.
